


lavender blue

by pjobroadwayslut14



Category: The Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue Series - Mackenzi Lee
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Era, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Post-The Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue, procrastinating writing jath, take this instead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 06:42:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28595655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pjobroadwayslut14/pseuds/pjobroadwayslut14
Summary: monty and percy have a late night conversation during the week they move into their flat
Relationships: Henry "Monty" Montague/Percy Newton
Comments: 7
Kudos: 33





	lavender blue

Over the first few nights in his new flat with Percy, Monty has been having incredibly fitful sleep. It’s possible it’s the result of his terrible mattress, or simply just the change in location. After spending months on the Eleftheria coming back to England, being able to sleep in a bed again is jarring. Not a comfortable bed, but a bed nonetheless.

During one of the lapses in sleep, he groans and reaches across the bed to cuddle closer to Percy. When he is met with nothing, he panics for a second, imagining all of the possibilities of where Percy could be. Percy had his first gig earlier as a hired musician, playing for some woman’s sick husband. Monty had grilled him beforehand about whether or not this was a contagious illness, but after being told it wasn’t, he had kissed Percy goodbye and let him go. He’s never one to tell Percy what he can and can’t do, but a case of pneumonia is definitely  _ not  _ something they need right now. So if Percy had already worked today, where was he? Monty peeks an eye open, and his heart calms as he sees Percy sitting at the edge of the bed.

Moonlight streams in through the window, bathing the room. Percy faces the moon with his chin resting on his fist. Monty squints from the brightness, bleary eyes fogging his vision. He rubs them roughly with his knuckles until the sight is cleared to his satisfaction.

“Percy, why are you awake?” he grumbles, sitting up in bed and stretching out his back.

Percy turns around, then turns back toward the window. “Couldn’t sleep. Go back to bed, my love, you’ve had a long week,” he whispers, head tilted toward the big white moon.

Monty would be lying if he said the nickname didn’t still give him butterflies in his stomach. It’s been months since their confession on the warm beaches of Santorini, but years of hesitation and yearning don’t just wash away with three words. And the week was long, long enough for them to find somewhere to live and move in there. The flat wasn’t too hard to find, after asking around for a while they found someone selling it and immediately jumped on the opportunity. Moving in wasn’t exactly a challenge either, what with the single bag of possessions they still had after their journey through Europe. But it was still a divide from their leisurely months of an hour of chores, then resting for the remainder of the day.

“So have you,” Monty mumbles, shuffling on his knees across the bed toward Percy. He wraps his arms around Percy’s middle from behind, still standing on his knees so that their heads are at the same height. He sets his chin on Percy’s shoulder, twists to leave a lingering kiss on Percy’s neck, then brings it back. Percy hums once, bringing his hands up to rest over Monty’s. They sit in silence for a while, eyes closed and drinking in each other’s presence.

“I know it’s been hard,” Percy whispers.

Monty lets out a quiet and hollow laugh. “You tell that to  _ me.  _ I haven’t done shit since we got here.” He gently pokes Percy in the side. “ _ You, _ on the other hand, did most of the work on securing this flat for us, arranged it,  _ and  _ found work. Why aren’t  _ you _ sleeping?”

Percy laughs breathily. “It’s not like it’s anything special. This flat is quite the contrast from your previous residence,” he says, avoiding the question.

“Oh, the cockroach-infested house in Santorini?”

“You know what I mean, you goose. Adjusting is difficult. It’s been difficult for me, too,” he says, serious.

Monty sighs. “Doesn’t seem like it. You’re as put together as ever.”

“Just because I’m better at hiding it, doesn’t mean the stress isn’t there. You aren’t the only one who grew up rich” Percy responds, slightly moving forward on the bed to twist around and face Monty.

“I know that.” Monty smiles. “Do you remember the time we stole the eggs from Felicity’s singing teacher? She brought them over as a gift from her and her husband for her pay raise.”

Percy grins. “Yes, because you insisted we could throw them at Richard Peele.”

“First off, that name isn’t allowed here. Second off, don’t act like you weren’t on board with it.”

“God, I was so jealous of that little shit.” A mischievous grin spreads across his face. “Too bad for him, I’ve finally gotten you all to myself,” Percy finishes, messily pressing a wet kiss to Monty’s cheek.

Monty scoffs, wiping it off the sleeve of his shirt. “Gross!” They laugh for a moment, then fall into another silence. “Hey, what was that song that that lady taught Felicity how to sing? I could have sworn you learned it on your fiddle at one point. You walked around humming it for  _ months  _ after, it drove me crazy.”

“Oh,  _ Lavender Blue _ ? It’s a sweet song, Monty, it isn’t my fault you are such a grouch.”

“How dare you imply that I am anything other than sunshine incarnate.”

Percy rolls his eyes with a smile that makes Monty’s heart jump into his chest. “Oh, shame on me. I’ll never recover.” He gestures for Monty to come closer, pulling him into his lap by their joined hands. Monty adjusts so that his cheek rests against Percy’s chest, arms wrapped around his neck. It’s silent for a moment, the moon shining brightly on their faces. Percy hugs Monty tighter around his waist. The silence throughout the flat is interrupted by a soft, airy humming.

Percy whisper-sings the opening lines of the song, rocking back and forth as he does as if he’s singing someone to sleep. It’s possible that’s the motive in the first place. He doesn’t sing often, but Monty treasures the few times he does. His singing voice is as soft as the petal of a flower, and it floats through the air like a breeze. Monty smiles into his chest as Percy rubs a gentle hand up and down his back. It’s common for him to think about how Percy seems to excel at everything he does. Whether it’s something musical, or something as simple as speaking French, he executes it better than Monty ever could. Monty knows just how much Percy loves him (a lot) but that doesn’t stop him from wondering what exactly it is about him that Percy loves so much. If you don’t count devilishly good looks, gambling, and drinking yourself into the ground, Monty doesn’t exactly have too many special skills.    
  
Percy finishes his song, and Monty quietly claps his hands together behind Percy’s head. “Beautiful, darling.”

He laughs breathily. “Oh, so you don’t hate the song anymore? It doesn’t drive you crazy?”

“I never said that it doesn’t drive me crazy,” Monty purrs, trying to hide the grin spreading across his cheeks. Percy lets out a cackle and Monty can’t help but beam. He twists so that they are face to face, noses achingly close. “Perhaps if you had been singing it to  _ me _ all those years ago, I wouldn’t have been so peeved by it.”

Percy’s eyes flit down to Monty’s lips. “Is that so?” he breathes. Monty grins, taking Percy’s jaw in his hand and leaning forward for a sweet kiss.

“Entirely,” Monty teases. He presses his cheek back to Percy’s chest, and Percy leaves a lingering kiss on the top of his head.

“I don’t regret it, you know,” Percy whispers, breaking the period of blissful quiet.

Monty brings his finger up and down Percy’s arm, tracing random shapes as he goes. “Regret… what thing?”

Percy wraps a finger around one of the curls on the back of Monty’s head and gives it a gentle tug. “This. Us. Running away together.”

“I’d hope you wouldn’t regret it. We’re already too far in over our heads for that now,” Monty jokes, as if he hadn’t spent many of his nights in Santorini worrying about this exact thing. He’s much more sure of the whole “running away together” thing now that they  _ have  _ the flat and it’s too late for either man to change his mind.

“I don’t. Even when we’re at each other's throats, it’s miles better than I could have imagined for us. I was sure I would have to settle for being the sickly best friend sitting in the corner of your wedding. I don’t think I could bear it.”

Monty looks up at him and tilts his head. “Oh, Perce. For what it’s worth, this is easily high on the list of my best-case scenarios. It’s not perfect, but it’s up there.”

Percy brushes a stray hair out of Monty’s eye, then leaves his hand to rest on his cheek. “What is your best case? Highest on the list, I mean.”

After a moment of thinking, lip between his teeth, Monty sighs. “You and I,” he traces his finger up Percy’s chest, looking up at him through his eyelashes as the finger reaches the base of his neck. “In a house much too big for just the two of us. Somewhere far away from England.” Monty smiles wider than before as the idea starts to take shape. “It would have a lawn, a huge one, with a garden full of the most beautiful flowers the world has ever seen. The neighbors would come by to say, ‘Look at those rose bushes, they’re perfect!” Percy leans down to press their foreheads together with a grin. “I’ll put my hand on my heart, just like this,” Monty starts, leaning back to mimic a prideful lady. “And I’ll say, ‘Why, thank you! My Percy grew them, aren’t they wonderful?”

Percy laughs with a blush. “Turns out that, on occasion, flattery  _ does _ get you places.”

“Is right now one of those occasions?” Monty asks, eyebrow raised.

“Could be,” Percy shrugs.

A smirk growing on both of their faces, Monty adjusts in Percy’s lap so that he is straddling Percy’s hips. Percy sets his hands on Monty’s waist, falling backward onto the bed and pulling Monty on top of him. 

Arms resting on either side of his head, Monty bends down close enough to brush Percy’s lips as he speaks. “I love you, my darling.”

Percy smiles warmly and runs his hands down Monty’s waist. “I love you too,” he says, before surging up to grab the back of Monty’s neck and pull him into a kiss.


End file.
